


Making Friends

by realfakedoors



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: "making friends", Gen, Implied Rose Quartz/Greg Universe, Marty is the worst, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 11:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realfakedoors/pseuds/realfakedoors
Summary: A oneshot in which Vidalia punches Greg Universe in the face. (Mild language and adult references)





	Making Friends

**Author's Note:**

> hi friends! one of my discord servers had a writing contest for "making friends" and it was pretty vague sooooo... I went with one of my fav human friendships. it was fun to write so I thought I'd share!

Greg blinked once, and then twice.

And a third time, just for good measure.

“I can’t decide if that’s cool or… really freaky?” He shivered, and Amethyst - or what he was pretty sure was still Amethyst - just cackled wildly and ran in the other direction.

Amaranthine skin and feathers fled the scene, and the Amethurkey with a gemstone at the nape of its neck took off into the streets of Beach City. Greg ran a hand through his long hair, frustrated.

Should he follow? Rose wasn’t going to be back for another hour at least, and he made a pointed effort to tell her to _not_ to explain what she was doing. The more he learned about the Gems, the less he wanted to understand them. He was content to just accept for who – or what – they were.

Everyone had a past, after all. One can only judge so far into history before fingers pointed and feelings ended up hurt. Greg Universe was not one to do either of those things, so for the most part, he tried not to question them.

“Oh… it’s you,” a voice void of kindness snapped at him, and Greg had to suppress a groan.

“Hi, Pearl,” he waved half-heartedly, watching the Temple door close behind her.

She pursed her lips. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I was just…” he chuckled nervously, and the lithe Gem’s eyes turned to hostile slits. “Uhh… you know what? I was just _leaving_.”

Greg stuck his hands in the pockets of his jean shorts and spun away swiftly, deciding to follow Amethyst after all. It would eat up some time, he figured, and it’s not like he was about to buddy up with Pearl or strike up a conversation with Garnet.

Amethyst, the littlest gem, was his favorite anyways (aside from Rose, of course). An attitude that sparked and a humor he could appreciate, the “young” Gem was his only real companion in the ocean town beside the breathtaking woman he was fortunate enough to call his own.

With an easy pace, Greg observed couples and young families peruse the shops along the boardwalk, chattering and giggling and taking pictures with their Polaroids. A warming sun was starting to set over the hills, and color ravaged the sky like fireworks. A vermillion sky of pinks and reds and oranges started to overtake the crisp blues of another cloudless day. The sight only made Greg feel that much lonelier.

Greg was human, a fact he was painfully reminded of every single day since deciding to drop Marty and his aspirations of fame. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, the craving he felt for companionship. All humans felt that, right? Certainly, he had _romance_ now, what with Rose as the center of his universe. She was a sun, pulling him in endlessly, and Greg just felt lucky enough to be caught in her orbit… but was that going to be it, forever?

No, what Greg lacked was friendship. He considered Amethyst friendly, Garnet neutral, and Pearl openly hostile, but none of them were _his_ friends. They were Rose’s friends - if not family, to some extent.

Greg realized he had come to a stop at the end of the road, near the old car wash. It was an idol of the sort of manual labor he wouldn’t have been caught dead admiring six months ago, but now, the old garage felt familiar. It seemed in poor taste to have turned his nose up at the humble business so easily, back when he first arrived.

_Guess I’ve still got some growing up to do._

A little crab ran across the beach, catching his eye. It was alone, too.

“Man, I feel like this is some lyrical genius I’m passing up…” He muttered, narrowing his focus as he watched the crab start to burrow.

“ _AHAHAh, GIRL, NO WAY!”_

Unintentionally, Greg had found Amethyst. Her voice was recognizable anywhere, and as she was practically screaming a little way down the street, it wasn’t like he had any trouble tracking her down after a few moments.

The tiny park in the center of their tiny town was mostly unoccupied, save for a head of blonde hair and a wild mane of lavender. Amethyst was giggling, rowdy and bouncing and probably pestering the poor woman she was bodily interrogating.

“Can you make it do it again?” The gem all but shouted, and Greg approached cautiously.

“Hey, Amethyst, what are you…?”

“ _You!_ ” A voice snapped at him, and Greg managed a weak grin. A stern frown and deep brow was staring at him, affixed to a head of voluminous blonde hair. She seemed… vaguely familiar, probably someone he had seen in town.

Amethyst looked back and forth between them, eyes practically turned to stars.

“Wait, _you_ know Greg?”

“Oh yeah, I know _Mr. Universe_ , alright.” The woman stood, and as she did, Greg spotted her swollen belly for the first time. It seemed comically in contrast with her spiked leather jacket.

He scratched his cheek. “Um, I’m really sorry, but I don’t know --”

That’s as far as he got.

Next thing Greg knew, his back was on the pavement, his hair tangled in his sudden sprawl, and there was a rush of stabbing pain throbbing around his left eye.

“ _Fuck you_ ,” the woman spat at him.

Greg managed to prop himself up on his elbows, feeling a rush of red fill his cheeks as Amethyst laughed at him.

“ _Dude_ ,” she giggled. “You just got _jacked_. _Your face!_ ” The gem put a hand over her mouth and continued to laugh, but Greg barely paid her any mind.

He brushed himself off and stood up, hands turned to shaking fists. Of course he wouldn’t hit a woman, _especially_ not a pregnant woman, but he was pretty sure he just got a black eye from a total stranger and that was _not_ going to fly.

“What is your _problem_? Who even _are you_?”

The woman crossed her arms across her chest, hands resting over her stomach, and growled. “Vidalia. The name’s Vidalia. I bet _Marty_ doesn’t remember either.”

“Marty?” Greg shook his head and touched his eye carefully, hissing in pain as he did so. “I haven’t talked to _Marty_ in, like, six months.”

She scoffed and sat back on the bench beside Amethyst.

“That makes two of us.” Her tone was like acid, but her expression softened as she massaged her stomach.

“Little guy’s kicking again,” she murmured towards Amethyst, and the gem squealed and placed a hand on the woman’s shirt. Greg watched the exchange, puzzled, when a memory rushed up to meet him.

 _Star child!_ It was Marty’s voice, and it made Greg twitch in annoyance, even in his memories.

His scummy manager had just gotten out of the back of his van with a mysterious but pretty young woman, probably younger than both of them, and she popped her gum upon her introduction.

 _Meet Vidalia_.

Greg deadpanned, completely forgetting about the pain in his face for a moment. “Oh my god, it’s _you_. From the show, and my van…”

The blonde woman scowled, and Greg felt his stomach lurch as she continued to rest her hands on her belly. It was like functions and formulas from math class all over again, adding and multiplying with his understanding.

Six months.

Marty’s gone.

This woman is pissed.

And she sort of looks sad, too.

Pregnant.

He reacted in what was probably the worst way imaginable, causing both Amethyst and Vidalia to balk.

“ _You had sex in my van?!”_

Vidalia looked ready to hit him a second time. “Yeah, go ahead and slut shame _me_ , asshole. Your manager was the one who got _me_ knocked up and flew out of town.”

“Wait wait wait wait wait wait,” Amethyst hopped between the two, not needing Garnet’s future vision to tell a few more punches were about to be thrown.

She looked between the two, hands up. “ _Farty Marty_ was _Greg_ ’s manager? From that show? But I thought you hated that guy, Greg?”

Now it was his turn to huff, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I do. He treated women like garbage.”

Vidalia snorted. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

They both glanced at each other for a moment, nonplussed by the common ground. Greg looked upwards, watching the first few stars wink into existence, and took a steady breath.

“Listen,” he said, moving to the bench slowly. While he was apologetic, he didn’t exactly want to get hit again. “I’m sorry about Marty. The guys a scumbag and, if it means anything, I wouldn’t blame you for hating me too.”

The blonde clenched her jaw and sat up a little straighter, hands never leaving her belly. “Ugh, no, _I’m_ sorry.” They scooted over as Amethyst rejoined them, watching the conversation volley like the world’s most tense tennis match.

“I don’t hate you. Shit, I don’t even hate Marty.” Vidalia’s voice turned cold, and she glared down at her belly. “I want to, but I love this baby too much. It’s all just stupid and confusing.”

Greg bit his lip, not really sure what to say. Amethyst curled up beside the blonde, her untamed hair dancing around the woman’s torso while clutching to her arm, sort of cuddled like a toddler.

A beat of silence passed, but it was brief. A light cry brought them back, and Greg was alarmed at the sight of Vidalia digging her nails into her arm. The skin there turned redder and redder, _almost_ drawing blood, but not quite.

“Whoa, hey, hey, stop that.” Greg angled her direction, wanting to pull her hands away but certain that would earn him another black eye. Amethyst just ran a comforting hand up and down Vidalia’s forearm, trying to be supportive.

“I hate this, the crying, my back hurts, I can’t sleep. Stupid, _stupid_ hormones.” A streak lined one of Vidalia’s cheeks, and the woman just stared at the pavement with a voice full of fury. “This isn’t _me_. I’m actually pretty hardcore.”

Once again, Greg, not exactly the master of tact, reacted inappropriately. This time, he started to howl with laughter. It rocked him so suddenly and loudly that the women beside him both exchanged a look, clearly wondering if he had gone unhinged.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” he said after a solid thirty seconds of hilarity, wiping away a tear of his own. “I’m just - you _literally_ just _punched me in the face_. If that’s _not_ hardcore, then I don’t know what is.”

Vidalia bit her lip through a smile, recognizing some truth in his statement, and the three of them all began to laugh. It was slow at first, still tense and unfamiliar, but with the seconds it became louder and less restrained. It was infectious, and wholesome, and surprisingly _necessary_ , Greg didn’t realize how badly he needed to laugh, at the situation, at himself, until the euphoria swept through him and made him laugh until his sides ached. It was like a storm in a drought, refreshing and washing away the clinging feeling of absence.

By the time they all fell silent again, the air was brighter even as the sky grew dark. Moonlight was their conductor, and a chorus of stars sang their peace. A silent symphony of night, Greg glanced down the bench to see Vidalia smiling.

“This isn’t me.” She said a second time, but this time without the edge in her tone. “Being a mom, I mean. I’m used to parties and boys and paint.”

Amethyst hummed, thoughtful. “I don’t know why it can’t _be_ you, V. Being a mom doesn’t make you _not_ you.”

The woman smiled down at the Gem, a tear still stuck to her lashes, and squeezed her a little closer.

“I know. Thanks, Amethyst. Just trying to… get used to it, I guess.” Her attention flickered towards Greg. “I really am sorry I hit you, by the way.”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll say I got it in a bar fight or something cool. And um…”

Greg cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “All that stuff about not knowing… how to be this new person you’re becoming. I sort of understand, I ran away from my whole life a few years back, just to run away from it _again_ six months ago.”

Wistful, he listened to the ocean, the presence of the tides still discerning over the buzz of the small city. “And it made me think a lot about who I am, because each time I ran, it was just _me_ somewhere else. I was – I _am_ – still the same me, just in a new place with a different chapter in my life, you know? I never stopped being me, not when I dropped out of college, not when I stopped touring, and not even when I met Rose.”

Neither Amethyst nor Vidalia responded, all of them pensive for a moment while Greg held an arm across his chest. “I was just thinking about something my cousin Andy said to me before I hit the road... ‘Just be _you_. You’re the only one who can.’”

“And I don’t know,” Greg fidgeted slightly in the seat, self-conscious at how serious he sounded. This wasn’t like _him_ , either, but then again... wasn’t that the point?

“Maybe it’ll help you, too?”

After a few moments, Vidalia looked in his direction. He wagered a glimpse, and was relieved to see she had stopped crying. She was smiling, in fact, and nodded appreciatively.

“Thanks, ‘Mr. Universe _._ ’ You’re alright, and hey,” she snickered and looked at Amethyst. “Anyone who can ditch Marty is A-OK in my book.”

Vidalia sent a cheeky grin in his direction, and Greg returned the gesture.

“Well, I’m going to meet Rose, you gonna stay here Amethyst?”

The Gem bobbed her head from side to side for a moment, apparently indecisive, but opted to stay.

“Alright,” Greg shrugged and half-saluted as he turned away. “Well, I’ll see ya later. And it was nice to, uh… remeet you, Vidalia. Maybe we can be friends?”

The blonde rolled her eyes, and the action made her look five years younger. “Yeah, _whatever_.”

Greg extended a hand to make the friendship official. “And, uh, I prefer Greg. I left behind _Mr. Universe_ as a stage name when I left Marty so… let’s stick to Greg.”

The blonde looked at his hand and smacked it like a high-five, smirking. Her eyes twinkled, and Greg’s smile reached his eyes.

“You got it, Greg.”


End file.
